Completely Unrequited
by Sketchling
Summary: She won't message you. She never does. However, mustering up the strength to message her is a constant inner struggle that you never seem to quite win. one-sided!VrisKan R&R!


** A/N:** Holy craaaap, I haven't been on here in a long time! Unfortunately, for those of you who have followed me for my Royai fics, I've somewhat fallen out of my FMA addiction :( Now I've caught the Homestuck bug xD

I'm trying to get back into writing, so you can expect more from me.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Homestuck.

_**Completely Unrequited**_

And there she was again.

You stare hard at the small, cerulean 'AG', typed neatly in Courier New. You stare at it so long that you can see the small cells in the letters, and the color begins to hurt your eyes. Your body heaves with a distressed sigh and you fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling of your room. Every time you blink, you see faint blue letters; like the imprint of wet ink smudged on your skin.

She won't message you. She never does. However, mustering up the strength to message her is a constant inner struggle that you never seem to quite win. You always end up saying a curt 'hello', however, typed in a lovely jade. Sometimes she answers, and sometimes she doesn't. It still hurts when she doesn't, though.

Sitting back up and crossing your legs neatly, your fingers hover delicately over the keyboard while you hesitate. You can already predict what will happen if she answers. She'll most likely reply with an annoyed 'oh, hey, Fussfangs ::::(' to which you'll respond by inquiring 'How Are You Fairing Today.' The conversation from then on will probably be taken up by the dull cobalt text, with small bits of green.

You are well aware that you annoy her; there isn't a moment where you aren't reminded of it. But some part of you—and you aren't quite sure what part—secretly hopes that when she says you're always 'soooooooo 8othersome', what she's actually saying is 'keep talking to me :::)'.

It's highly unlikely that she means that, and you almost scoff at the prospect. It's just as your lusus told you, after all; Vriska Serket only cares for one quadrant, and that's kismesistude. Imagining her flushed red for someone is a ridiculous idea. You know this.

- arachnidsGrip began trolling grimAuxiliatrix at 19:30 -

AG: Soooooooo, you h8ven't mess8ged me 8ll d8y.

AG: 8nd it's not like I c8re or 8nything, 8ut it's just not like you, Fussyf8ngs!

You can tell she's worried, which surprises you. The only time she replaces her A's (or any other vowel) with her favorite number is when she's nervous or upset. Something deep inside you ignites; a small flame in your chest. A homey, heartwarming fireplace. You desperately want to put out the burning desire that's steadily blooming, but you just _can't_.

And ironically enough, it makes you even more attracted to her.

GA: Oh Hello Vriska My Sincerest Apologies

GA: I Was Just Starting On The Dress You Previously Requested

AG: Great! ::::)

AG: I knew I could count on you, Fussyfangs.

Your heart flutters in your chest.

No, stop.

AG: I mean, you're soooooooo good with fashion and shit.

_Stop._

GA: You Are In An Unusually Good Mood Today Vriska

AG: Yeah, well...

You suddenly find yourself holding your breath.

AG: It's 8ecause I didn't have you nagging over me all day. Jegus, it's nice to get a br8k!

AG: You can 8e soooooooo annoying sometimes, Fussyfangs ::::/

Your breath passes through your lips in a shaky sigh as your mouth forms a thin line and you grit your teeth, painted nails irritably typing out a reply.

GA: Well I Have Clearly Wasted My Time Here

GA: So I Will Just Be Off Now

GA: To Finish The Dress

AG: Awesome ::::)

- grimAuxiliatrix ceased trolling arachnidsGrip at 19:37 -

You stare at the screen for a few moments more before tearing your eyes away. The room suddenly feels extremely lonely, although you were the only one in it to begin with.

It hits you like concrete. Extremely rough, hard, and all too real.

Vriska is not flushed for you.

She never has been.

And she never will be.

And, yet, despite knowing this, you still stay up all night, working on her dress. You carefully stitch every seam and use the prettiest sparkling white fabric you have. You spend hours getting the wings just right, making sure they won't rip or tear too easily.

Your vision blurs as some part of you realizes that all the effort you put into your red feelings for her is completely unrequited.

Not that this is anything new.

**A/N: **Kinda rusty since it's been a while, but yeah. Hope you enjoyed your daily cup of angst! ~Sketch


End file.
